As your friend
by chrysalis escapist
Summary: Mac/Stella oneshot, my take on where the events from 5x11 could lead


**Disclaimer: once again, I don't own the CSI:NY characters**

Broken fingers, a broken neck. Diakos has got another victim. One marked bruise in the palm of her hand which Mac feels to the extent of knowing has been caused by a certain coin. Broken eyes in a pool of broken curls. They found her near where they had found the rat-fisherman. And now she lies on Sid's table. In the mere hope that she can somehow help prove what they think they already know, the mere hope that they can find some trace on her to prove who did this to her, who's doing this to his team.

Although Mac can't bear looking at her he finds it hard to turn away. Wherever he looks there's just silvery grey all around. It reflects in his eyes, cold. No emotions because he hasn't arrived at them yet. The sparkle is only inside his brain, flickering from thought to thought. Unable to hold on to any one. All the possibilities. They can't fill the emptiness.

"Mac," Sid's voice eventually reaches him, "don't waste your time here. Go find this guy, stop him."

And he stands facing the elevator. Brushed metal surface. His reflection in it merely a faint change of hue. Revealing no hint at how personal this case has become. Just emptiness, shadows, echoes, a shell. A murder so pointless, so avoidable.

He feels frozen into a standstill by the speed of his thoughts. All the possibilities.

Just a faint outline of himself, a projection plane for his mind. His memories, of Stella snapping at him, her curls bouncing, him snapping at her. And a snapped neck, curls flattening. He tries to push the images away but there is nothing to replace them so they keep floating up. Taunting him, just as Diakos must have intended.

'As your friend I'd love to.' Maybe he shouldn't have. Maybe it was him saying that which encouraged her to go on with this.

The elevator doors open, snapping his reflection into movement. Cracking the shell of what is only his outside. The light from inside the elevator leaps a spark into him. Emotion. He feels angry. He snaps into movement, doesn't let her exit.

"You disobeyed a direct order!" The elevator doors snap shut behind him.

The angry spark is reflected in her eyes. Glinting daggers that don't hurt him as much as the image of her on Sid's table does. Arms folded, rebelliously, not crossed over her chest. But they could have been.

"You're lucky I'm not suspending you!" Mac hisses.

But he thinks of how it had ended for Aiden. Damn that determination. 'I admire your passion.' _Damn._ 'I'm okay, Mac.'. But for how much longer? _Damn it. Damn your stubbornness._ Damn the fact that he actually understands that.

"Mac, he killed another innocent person! We have to catch him!" Stella's tenacity is fiercely obvious in her features. Her eyebrows kneaded together like the silhouette of an eagle moments before swooping down.

He matches the blaze in her eyes. "You're damn right, _we_ have to catch him. Not you! Not alone. And not with those methods. Stella, if you continue to work against the policies of this lab there is no way I can protect you."

It fuels her irritation. "I don't need your protection."

"Well, just for once in this particular case you might." he rebuts, "Diakos is extremely skilled. And he has made it abundantly clear that he's after you and will stop at nothing."

"Then how are you going to protect me?" Stella fumes.

"Damn it, Stella!" Mac is exasperated, "He killed a woman who had nothing to do with this but look like you."

"He … killed her because she looked like me?" Stella's voice has the sound of smoke from a dying fire.

"Yes." Mac is still too worked up, "Sid has determined that her hair was naturally straight so we have reason to believe that it was curled so she'd look more like you."

Stella's eyes turn as dull as those of the woman on Sid's table. "Then it's my fault that she died." The position of her arms still folded before her changes slightly, now seeming more aimed at holding herself up.

He tries to look into her eyes. Emptiness. Until somewhere, deep, so deep that he's afraid he's never going to be able to reach it and make it go away, he sees pain smoldering. He tries to touch her but she pulls away.

He reaches out with his voice, the flame in his eyes a softer glow. "No, don't ever think that."

"But it's true! If I hadn't …" A feeling of guilt logs her tongue.

"Diakos had been targeting you before." The image of how that could have ended wells up in him again. "And he has killed people not really involved before. We just have to prove it."

"I thought, no, actually I still think that my way we can get that proof." Stella's resilience picks up again.

"I know." Mac's shrug is accompanied by a sigh. "It's just that … I don't want to lose you, not to Diakos, not to Sinclair. Stella, I have the feeling Diakos has spared you up to now because you're an officer, so please don't do anything to endanger that position. There has to be another way, and as your friend I ask you to please consider it, and make sure you're taking every precaution to stay safe." He searches her eyes, hoping, pleading that she will see his point.

Her hand is on his arm. "Okay. I'll do my best." He can feel the warmth of her touch through his sleeve. The strength of her fingers. Unbroken.

* * *

Many thanks for taking the time to read. I hope you can spare a little more and let me know your thoughts. All comments are appreciated any time, and always replied to if logged.


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